We all stared as the car drove through town. Nobody'd seen a vehicle like that in decades, even leaving behind the little detail that the King was driving it. My grandmother was a big Elvis fan, so I grew up surrounded by ceramic statuettes and black velvet paintings, so I knew the King when I saw him. This guy looked just like him, and I'm not talking about the shining jumpsuit or equally shining slicked back hair. No. The cheeks, the lips, the eyebrows--this guy was a reincarnation or a clone or something, down to the shape of his hand as it tapped casually against the convertible window as he drove up to the local diner, pulled in, and parked. I don't know what possessed me, but when he slid into a booth, took off his sunglasses with one slick move, and smiled at me--that smile that's half a sneer--I couldn't help myself. "Banana sandwich?" I asked. He smiled. "I think I'm going to like this town."


Inspiration: "Race Car Ya-Yas" - Cake
Story potential: High.
Notes: This is an oddball, genre wise. More magic realism than anything else, I guess. Oh,and Elvis is coming to town as a preacher. There will be rock-and-roll miracles. And--stuff. I don't know. But I feel a pull.